


Fire Meets Gasoline

by ElDiablito_SF, WeeBeastie



Series: night verse [4]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Crack Crossover, M/M, Multiverse, SF Verse x Night Verse, vampires and hipsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:45:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11630601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/pseuds/ElDiablito_SF, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeeBeastie/pseuds/WeeBeastie
Summary: A delightfully cracktastic crossover that happened when El and I started joking about what would happen if herSF Verseboys met my Night Verse vampires. Unsurprisingly, shenanigans ensue!





	Fire Meets Gasoline

**Author's Note:**

> All my love to my co-conspirator El. I can't thank you enough for collaborating on this little slice of wonderful insanity with me. <3

It was early evening, not long after sundown. Silver was sitting on the living room floor, surrounded by lit candles arranged in a very particular formation, with an old sheet underneath him and the candles because Flint had said ‘if you get so much as _one_ drop of wax on my hardwood floor, I will fucking end you’ when Silver told him of his harebrained plan.

“I just want to see what you were like as a human. What you might've been like if you were human when we met,” Silver had explained. The book of arcana he found in Flint's library told him to light some candles, burn some sage, and pronounce the incantation carefully, so he did.

“Liberum tenebris. Liberum tenebris. _Liberum tenebris!_ ” he intoned as seriously as he possibly could, given that he didn't speak Latin.

The candles were extinguished at once. The lights flickered. The scent of sage became stronger, and then there was a loud bang and two naked strangers appeared in the living room, landing right in front of Silver.

“What the actual fuck!” Silver gasped, scrambling to his feet and staring in amazement at the two men he'd apparently summoned into the living room.

They looked...exactly like Silver and Flint. A little different here and there maybe - the other Silver still had both legs, he couldn't help but notice - but otherwise, identical. And they were naked, and looked like they were in the middle of something when Silver interrupted them by...summoning them to a parallel universe? He was not entirely sure what he did, or how.

“What the actual fuck,” the other Silver echoed, grabbing a throw pillow off the couch to cover himself with, and handing the other to-- other Flint. Parallel universe Flint. Human Flint. “What happened? Where are we?” asked the other Silver.

“Portland,” Silver said dumbly, then mentally kicked himself because hi, not helpful. “I...was trying to do some kind of ritual? And I think it went awry.”

“You think?!” other Silver spat, looking around himself warily. It was uncanny - he really did look just like Silver, except for minor details like, you know, not missing the lower half of his left leg.

“I’m sorry!” Silver exclaimed, reeling. “I didn't think I had that kind of power, to...summon myself and my boyfriend from a different universe. If that's what I did. Either that or I summoned our previously unknown identical twins from, uh-- where are you from?”

“San Francisco,” the other Silver said, fidgeting, shifting his grip on the throw pillow that was the only thing preserving his modesty.

“Cool, I lived there for a little while once,” Silver said, then remembered himself. “Um. I mean, let me get you something to wear so you don't have to cover yourselves with...those,” he said. He fled up the stairs as fast as his one good leg and one robot leg would take him, making it to the bedroom in record time. He slammed the door shut behind him and leaned back against it, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Flint looked up sharply from where he'd been reading in bed, frowning at Silver suspiciously. “What have you done?”

“Uh. Nothing, just-- a tiny thing. Little hiccup, no big deal. I seem to have summoned another me and another you from...well, I don't really know where. San Francisco, I guess. And, this is fun, they're both human,” Silver said, going to his dresser and rummaging in it for something Other Silver could wear. He'd started thinking of him that way - Other Silver - even though in the confusion he hadn't actually gotten his name.

“ _What_ ,” Flint said, his voice so low it was practically a growl. Hot, under other circumstances. He snapped his book shut and rose from the bed, and then in a flash he was standing in front of Silver, green eyes narrowed, teeth bared in a snarl. “Tell me again, because I think I heard you say that you summoned another you and another me with your tenth grade education and incredibly basic understanding of magic. Surely you're mistaken, or I misunderstood, because that is the batshit craziest thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“Not mistaken, and don't call me Shirley,” Silver tried lamely. “No? Anyway. I came up here to get them some clothes because for whatever reason they were naked when they appeared. I think they might've been fucking just before they got here.”

“That does sound like us,” Flint mused, and then he was gone in a blur of motion. 

Silver cursed under his breath and grabbed some of his clothes for Other Silver, plus a set of Flint’s stripey old man pajamas for Other Flint. He rushed back downstairs, holding the clothing out to Other Silver as a peace offering. He didn't like how the two Flints had squared up and were eyeing each other.

“Thanks,” Other Silver said, turning away and putting the throw pillow down so he could get dressed. Silver knew he shouldn't look - creeping on his doppelgänger was a whole new level of fucked up - but Other Silver had a cute butt, so.

“I’m guessing your name is John Silver,” Silver said. “Because that's my name. And is he James Flint?”

“Yeah,” Other Silver said warily, and seeing another version of himself standing there wearing his lounge pants and his t-shirt was the weirdest fucking thing. “How did you do this? I mean, what were you trying to do?”

“Well...my James is a vampire, and I am too, now, but I didn't know him when he was human because he was turned in the 18th century and-- long fucking story, but I was just curious about what he might've been like as a human,” Silver said, feeling slightly unhinged at hearing his own words. He knew he sounded crazy. “I guess the universe is some kind of tricky wench because instead of just, I dunno, showing me a bit from his past it seems to have summoned you two here. I don't mean to be rude, but I'm not sure why _you're_ here, exactly.”

“Probably because we were fucking right before you summoned us, and... Wait, did you say you're vampires? You're shitting me,” Other Silver said. “Prove it.”

***

By the time Flint witnessed two gleaming white fangs drop down from underneath the creepy doppelgänger’s upper lip, he was already standing between the two Silvers, pushing his own behind his back. In the blink of an eye, he had found himself nose to nose with… himself, only wearing far too much leather. So himself but at Folsom Street Fair, basically.

“Vampires or not, you stay the fuck away from my husband,” he growled into his own reflection.

“Wait, no, I wanna see,” Silver tried to peek out from behind him. 

“Husband?” An echo sounded from behind the reflection’s back.

Flint whirled around and took his own Silver’s face into his hands. “What did you put in our nightcaps last night? Was it that hipster dream tea stuff that your sister keeps trying to push on me? I told you: I’m allergic to chamomile.”

“No one is allergic to chamomile,” the Wrong Silver intoned from behind... the Flints.

“No one asked you!” Flint snapped.

“Don’t talk to him that way,” Wrong Flint stepped forward, eyes gleaming with a dangerous flame. “You might look like me, you might even talk and think like me, but do not for a moment think that I would hesitate to rip out your throat if you disrespect my… charge.”

“Huh, so your daddy didn’t put a ring on it, I see,” his Silver smirked and Flint once again had to bodily move him out of the way because the fledgling… god help him… _vampire_ was baring his fangs again.

“This can’t be happening,” Flint muttered and added a bit helplessly, “I’m an attorney.”

Wrong Flint smirked. “Well this isn’t hell, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“How can we be sure?” Flint sighed. 

“Anyways, you interrupted us mid perfectly delectable fuck,” his husband continued, shouldering his way to the front again. “Put us back.”

“Where?” Wrong Silver’s eyebrows flew upwards in a look that was all too familiar. This Silver too was obviously a little shit. “Frisco?”

“How dare..!” his Silver hissed. 

“Wherever you snatched us from,” Flint scowled.

“ _Home_ ,” his Silver added, then whispered into his ear, “I swear to god, I would never give you chamomile.”

The Wrong Silver let out a sheepish chuckle and his eyes flew to the leather-clad version of himself. It was taking all of Flint’s wherewithal to abstain from getting ideas just from that outfit alone. 

“Ah… well…” 

“You _do_ know how to reverse the spell, don’t you?” Wrong Flint frowned at his… charge.

“I haven’t read up that far in the book,” Wrong Silver shrugged.

“ _John_.”

“Typical hatchling behavior,” Flint whispered to his own Silver who turned around and bit his earlobe.

“It’s ‘fledgling’ not ‘hatchling’ and I’ll thank you again to keep your commentary to yourself,” Folsom!Flint pronounced with enough flair to make Flint believe he really was three hundred years old.

“Isn’t it sweet that we’re together in this universe too?” his husband mewled, brushing a hand up Flint’s bicep.

“We’re in _Portland_ ,” Flint snorted. “Where aging hipsters go to die.”

“Hey!” 

“Let me eat him, daddy,” Wrong Silver flashed a toothy grin at him. “I bet he tastes delicious.”

“Well, we certainly have _that_ idea in common,” his own Silver purred agreeably at his side.

“He means literally,” Flint said with a sour expression.

“Oh.”

“Look… Flint,” the Wrong Flint said, “we’ll figure out how to put the two of you back. Just… give us a few days to figure it out.”

“Days! My partner will have my ass!” Flint exclaimed.

“Hey, your ass was promised to me, till death do us part, etc.,” Silver bristled. “Miranda signed the certificate!”

“Miranda?” A shadow moved over bizarro Flint’s face. “Miranda Hamilton? She is… alive in your world?”

“She’s not in yours?” Flint asked, met only with a sombre silence. “This world sucks. Take us home.”

“My Miranda died centuries ago.”

Something about the way he looked when he said it made Flint suspect that this tragic passing was somehow entirely his own fault. If he wasn’t, in fact, dreaming, he was very much looking forward to returning to his rightful place, where at least occasionally he’d be allowed to see sunlight and where he could hear Miranda’s voice with the push of a button, if only from New York. At any rate, anything was better than _Portland_. 

***

“I just need to read more of the book and I'm sure I can figure out how to get you back to Frisco,” Silver interrupted the two Flints, enjoying how Other Silver and Other Flint cringed when he called it that. “John, uh… want to come upstairs with me to get the book and we can look through it together?” he suggested, hating himself just a little for trying to get Other Silver alone so quickly. Other Flint looked delicious too, of course, but there was something about his own doppelgänger that really got him going. It made sense, he told himself. It was only natural to feel… tingly… when looking at a twinky bubble butt version of himself.

Other Silver looked at Other Flint. “What do you think?”

“You want to get home, don't you? I am not about to get stuck in a bizarro world in Portland of all places. Go on, go with your slightly damaged clone there and figure out how we go home,” Other Flint said.

Silver led the way up the stairs to where he'd left the book in the spare lightproof bedroom, feeling a bit self-conscious about his leg as he climbed the stairs in front of Other Silver. Slightly damaged clone, indeed.

“So I'm guessing you don't know any other vampires?” Silver asked, to take his mind off his leg and Other Flint’s comment about it.

“Uh, no. They're not real,” Other Silver said almost haughtily, following him to the spare bedroom.

“Well, in this particular version of reality, we are very real. I'm real, and I'm you, sort of. Except for the vampirism...and the robot leg,” Silver said, shutting the door behind them and rummaging haphazardly around the room for the book.

“I like your leg. It's very steampunk,” Other Silver volunteered, which made Silver smile despite himself. “Can I see your fangs again?” Other Silver asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

“Sure,” Silver said. He turned to face him and brought his fangs out on purpose, looking into those eyes that were strikingly blue, just like his own.

“Wow,” Other Silver breathed. “So you have fangs and a cool steampunk leg...what else is different between you and me, do you think?” he asked, and Silver knew that tone; he recognized it as the one he used when he was trying to sound innocent while having a downright filthy idea. Awesome. He could work with that.

“I dunno,” Silver replied casually. “I think the only way to really know for sure would be to get naked in front of each other. But that's crazy, right? We can't do that.”

“Yeah...crazy,” Other Silver said, unconvincingly.

“But on the other hand, how often do you get to meet an almost identical copy of yourself who seems amenable to being hit on and who you find inexplicably sexy?” Silver said, taking a step closer to Other Silver and resting one hand lightly on his hip, giving him plenty of room to back up or turn away, just in case.

“Not that often. I mean, it hadn't ever happened to me until now,” Other Silver allowed, and he didn't back up or turn away. If anything, he leaned in closer.

“Can I kiss you?” Silver asked suddenly, putting his fangs away so as to be a little less threatening. He brought his free hand up to cradle the back of Other Silver’s head, fingers tangling in his curls.

“Yeah,” Other Silver breathed, and then it was off to the races.

Silver leaned in and closed the remaining distance between them, kissing this man who looked and moved and talked almost exactly like him. He moaned, taken with sudden passion for his alternate self, and backed him toward the bed. He pulled away from tasting his mouth, reluctantly, and stripped off his clothes in a hurry.

“Should we really be doing this?” Other Silver asked, eyeing him, but he sounded breathless and excited and was already tugging the borrowed shirt off over his head even as he spoke. “It’s kind of...cheating on our Flints, isn't it?”

“Nah, it's basically masturbation. Just one guy getting himself off,” Silver assured him, then lunged and practically tackled his alternate self on to the bed, climbing on top of him. “You usually bottom? Or top?” he asked, helping Other Silver shimmy out of his borrowed pants. 

“Bottom. James hasn't really-- we don't, ah--”

“He hasn't let you fuck him like that yet?” Silver asked, almost incredulous, as he leaned over his delectable now-naked other self to get at the lube in the nightstand. They were in the spare bedroom, but he was still thoroughly prepared. Every room of the house was well stocked that way, just in case. “That's funny, mine can be a huge bottom slut sometimes. When he's in the right mood, he loves it,” Silver said, slicking his fingers with the lube.

“I'm kind of a huge bottom slut,” Other Silver admitted, squirming enticingly beneath him as Silver eased two fingers into his tight hole. Impressive for someone who'd been getting fucked not long before.

“Oh, my god. I can't believe I get to fuck myself, and such a gorgeous version of me, too,” Silver moaned softly, curling his fingers inside Other Silver to rub against his prostate, making him cry out. “I almost feel like you got a raw deal, having to settle for the one-legged vampire edition of yourself.”

“Are you crazy? You're stupid hot. Get over here, get a condom, and fuck me,” Other Silver said, and the demanding tone in his voice sent a shiver up Silver’s spine.

“Don't really need a condom. I'm clean, and I can't carry diseases or catch them, because technically I'm dead,” Silver said as pleasantly as possible. “But if you'd like for me to use one, I will.”

“Um...no, I guess it isn't necessary in this case,” Other Silver said, and canted his hips up invitingly.

Silver groaned, maybe a little louder than he should've under the circumstances, and took Other Silver by the hips. He pushed into him slowly, gasping quietly at how tight and hot he was inside. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yes,” Other Silver mewled underneath him, and almost immediately they began rocking together, Silver fucking deep into his alternate self and cursing at how _good_ it felt to be inside him. It was so good, he tuned out everything else around them, his world narrowing to just his body and Other Silver’s, and the explosively pleasurable way they worked together.

***

Flint paced up and the down his bizarro clone’s living room, taking in the so-called decor. It was a tad… _something_ he couldn’t quite place his own conceited finger on, and Flint liked to think that he had impeccable taste. He did marry John, after all, and John was a total catch, as the kids said: 10/10 would bang. Or something. He didn’t like that he was starting to talk like his young husband, if only in his head.

“What’s with the naval theme?” he finally snarled, eyes casting between the velvet paintings of ships and an extended spyglass hanging in a mounted glass case.

“I used to be a pirate,” his leather-clad reflection responded, not bothering to take his nose out of the book he’d had open in his lap.

“Right,” Flint chuckled looking over his shoulder. “Oh. You’re serious?” His host’s lips twitched, an involuntary upwards curl mimicked by his own and Flint redirected his eyes back towards the wall, an uncomfortable tingle running up his spine.

“So, Miranda...” his attention was pulled once again towards the Wrong Flint’s gravelly voice. “She’s alive in your world.” Flint nodded, turning about and placing himself in an armchair across from the other Him. “Does that mean…?”

“No,” he quickly responded, looking away. “Thomas is dead.”

A sigh bounced off the darkened walls, escaped from one or both of them, Flint could no longer tell which.

“And John?” the Wrong Flint asked.

“He was… unexpected,” Flint replied with a soft smile. It quickly turned into a frown. “You _killed_ yours?”

“What?”

“You turned your John Silver into a vampire?”

The book went flying to the other side of the room. “It wasn’t like that!” his host barked, nails like talons biting into the upholstery where he sat. “He… well, it was also unexpected. In fact, we fought and he had tried to leave… He was hit by a car. I did what I had to do to save his… life, I suppose.”

“So you admit it was your fault?”

“How dare you sit in judgement of me? Who even are you but a pale reflection of the man I might have been? You know nothing of pain and struggle and crippling self-doubt. You know nothing of redemption and the light it shines upon the shadows cast by others.”

“Fuck you and your pedantic self-righteousness!” Flint exploded, rising from the armchair. He wasn’t about to get lectured by an undead ex-pirate. “You don’t know anything about what I might have lived through or what I might have felt. I lost him too!” His breath caught up between his lungs, creaking softly like a dying bird. His rib cage squeezed too tightly over his heart. “There was a time of crushing grief and wrecking guilt,” he continued unprompted. “But the truth is, I would go through it again if it meant I got to be with John _now_.” He stopped, the need to see John again, to hold him in his arms overwhelming him. “Where the hell _are_ they?” Flint snapped. “How long does it take to find a bloody spell?”

His host rose and they stood in the center of the living room staring at each other in deafening silence that only punctuated the fact that the clone of Flint did not breathe.

“Fuck,” they both intoned simultaneously.

“Would yours…?”

“Would _yours_?”

“We’d better go check on them,” Vampire Flint sighed and turned towards the staircase.

***

“Oh _yes_ , John,” Silver gasped, getting one hand between them to start jerking his other self off as he fucked him enthusiastically. “That's it, that's it, come on--”

Then the door was flung wide open. Silver startled, collapsing forward on top of Other Silver and futilely trying to cover him with his body. Like it wasn't already obvious they were both naked, and had been fucking. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” his Flint exclaimed, and wow, that was a surprisingly difficult question to answer under the circumstances. 

“...finding the book?” he tried, and his Flint’s response was to move so fast he was a blur, then appear next to the bed and haul Silver bodily up, then out of and off his other self. He wound up standing shakily by the bed on his one good foot and one robot foot, which he hadn't removed in his haste, naked and trying to preserve what little dignity he had left by holding his hands in front of himself. He grabbed his underwear from the floor and pulled them on awkwardly, so at least he wouldn't be completely nude. 

“Please tell me we did not just walk in here to find you fucking the other version of you. Please tell me even you're not that stupid, to get distracted from your task that easily by your own self,” Flint said, shaking Silver by the shoulder. He was clearly furious, eyes blazing, fangs out. 

“Well, I am pretty stupid,” Silver said, looking away from Flint and scuffing his one good foot on the floor. 

“I didn't mean it like that,” Flint said, his expression softening. “Being undereducated and perhaps a bit overly confident doesn't make you--”

“Are we just ignoring the fact that he was fucking my husband?!” Other Flint snapped, charging to the bed to stare down at Other Silver, genuine anguish on his face. “How could you? Do our vows mean nothing to you?”

“It-- I wasn't--” Other Silver stammered, and Silver hastily made himself useful, searching through the spare bedroom for the book. 

“You cheated on me,” Other Flint said, and Silver resolved then and there that he never wanted to see that look on his own Flint’s face. 

“It wasn't cheating! It was basically masturbation. Just one guy getting himself off, right John?” Other Silver said, looking over at him for support. 

“I am not about to get in the middle of this. I can't find the book up here, so if you’ll excuse me, I'm going downstairs to keep looking,” Silver said, then fled before anyone could protest. 

“Get back here! This is your fault, too!” Silver heard Flint yell after him as he escaped down the stairs. He paused at the foot of the staircase, feeling more than a little guilty when his Flint appeared, looking frustrated and chagrined, and maybe even...sad? Jealous?

“Look, I'm sorry! I didn't mean for us to do that, it just kind of happened,” Silver said, staring down at the floor because for some reason he couldn't meet Flint’s gaze. 

“You may have just broken up their marriage,” Flint said, surprisingly somber. “It isn't entirely your fault, of course, but you certainly contributed to the row they're having. I'm disappointed in you,” he said, and Silver winced. That stung - the quiet, serious tone of Flint’s voice was just so much worse than even being yelled at would be. 

“I’m sorry,” Silver said again, feeling helpless. 

“It's getting late. We should offer the humans a bed, and make sure they're alright staying here tonight. We may have to wait until tomorrow night to keep looking for that book and get them home,” he said, then turned to retreat back up the stairs. Silver reached for him, but was ignored, and followed him upstairs with a weary sigh. 

***

Flint’s life always appeared full of some kind of existential regrets, the biggest of which at the moment was that he could not call Miranda. But even if he could, what exactly would he say to her? My husband fucked… himself? In another dimension? 

Flint couldn’t sleep. The bed in the darkened room was too big and too soft, and most importantly, too empty. 

“I can show you two to your room, we can resume this… whatever this is tomorrow night,” their host had said. “I understand if you need to leave the house to get food in the morning, I only ask that you lock the door behind you when you leave and don’t open any of the blinds.” His vampire clone placed something cold into Flint’s hand. “Here’s the spare house key.”

“Fuck this, I’ll sleep on the couch,” Flint groused.

“Fuck you!” Silver had snapped at him. “You’re not sleeping on some goddamn vampire couch.”

“Well, I sure as shit am not sleeping with _you_ tonight,” Flint had snarled, and turned away demonstratively.

That was how he ended up in the guest room by himself. He had no idea where his absolutely infuriating so-called better half had got off to, but he wasn’t going to think about that. Not yet. Maybe later, when and if they found a way back to their own… whatever the fuck… world? After he had a chance to actually tell Miranda what happened, and wrap his own mind around it. Yeah, maybe then.

Flint twisted and turned. The electronic clock’s vaguely green glow stared him down, reminding him there was still an hour or two to slog through before sunrise. Had he slept at all? His muscles were heavy and tight. His legs ached and jittered. Did vampires have toilets? Fuck it, he needed one.

He padded out into the hallway barefoot, wrapping Vampire Flint’s robe around himself for a semblance of decency. The house stood quiet and cold around him. The pitter patter above his head told him it was raining. 

“Fucking Portland,” he muttered, feeling his way down the hallway and towards what he’d hoped would prove to be the bathroom. His instincts did not lead him astray, and soon Flint was emptying his bladder with blissful relief. He washed his hands and splashed some water into his face, staring his actual reflection down in the mirror. “Fucking shit-hell. Fuck.”

The tightness in his chest would not let him return to bed. He would probably regret folding this easily later, but in the meantime, all he wanted was to hold John in his arms again. “God damn me,” Flint muttered, ever his own biggest fan. 

He padded down the stairs, trying to remember the layout of the vampire lair. He could’ve sworn there was another room down the corridor past the dining room. But the light in the kitchen caught his eyes first, so Flint turned and wandered up to the open refrigerator, waiting for it to close. And when it did, he smiled sheepishly in spite of himself.

“Hey,” Flint said to Silver, who avoided his eyes and tucked a stray curl behind his ear in that endearing way that was indelibly _him_.

“Hey yourself,” Silver gave him a soft smile. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Nope. You?”

“Listen, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am…”

“I forgive you.”

“What?”

“I forgive you,” Flint repeated, sensing the knot uncoiling in the pit of his belly. “This whole thing is fucking weird, right? I can’t blame you for behaving that way in such a bizarre situation… I mean, I didn’t avail myself of the same opportunity, but you know, babe… you do you.”

“Are you sure?” Silver looked up at him from beneath his ridiculous eyelashes.

“I can’t sleep without you in my bed, John.”

“Oh…” Silver’s lips hovered in a tantalizingly shaped oval. He looked a bit like a deer in the headlights, and Flint was powerless against the desire to kiss him again, to pull him into his embrace, to feel the warmth of his skin and taste his breath.

“I love you,” Flint whispered, wrapping his fist into the ridiculous shirt Silver was wearing and pulling him closer so he could capture his lips with his own. Silver’s arms wrapped around Flint’s shoulders, fingers digging in beneath his shoulderblades in the familiar, possessive way. His body undulated with desire against Flint’s. “Baby, are you cold? You feel cold.”

“I’m fine,” Silver whimpered into the kiss, nipping at Flint’s lower lip, then forcing his tongue past his teeth with reckless abandon. 

Flint backed him up against the kitchen counter, lifting him by the hips, loving the feel of Silver’s thighs pressed tightly around his middle. “I fucking love you, baby. You're my beautiful boy. God, I missed you,” he whispered between kisses that he peppered all over Silver’s skin. “I don’t ever want to fight with you again.”

“Mmmm,” Silver responded, burying his face in Flint’s neck.

Sharp nails dug into Flint’s lower back as Silver pulled him closer, grinding up into the heat of his body. Silver’s teeth ran along the bulging ligaments at the juncture of Flint’s neck and shoulder and Flint moaned lustily at the feel of the love-bite that would probably leave a bruise for all to admire for days. Silver’s clever fingers were already reaching into the robe, stroking Flint’s cock to full hardness while his own erection strained barely contained by the thin material of his pants.

“Fuck, John…” Flint groaned and let his hands pull on the loose elastic that barely clung to Silver’s slim hips, sliding the pants down his legs, letting his hand caress the newly exposed skin until it hit… metal??? “What the fuck???” 

Flint stepped back, attempting to catch his breath. “You’re not my John!”

“I… I can explain,” the little imposter stammered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Flint took another step back, wiping at his face with both hands in a futile attempt to wake himself from this nightmare.

“Well, look, I was doing this for your own good!” the little vampire shit insisted.

“Did you… did you fucking _bite_ me? Am I going to turn into a vampire?” Flint’s voice rose several octaves along with his panic levels.

“No… what? I didn’t even break skin!”

“What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?” Flint spat out. The messed up Silver-clone’s face suddenly closed in on itself. His eyes darkened and lips set in a hard line. Flint’s heart clenched painfully inside his ribcage seeing that hardened expression. He almost felt sorry for the young vampire. Almost.

“Think of it this way: you two are even now! If anything, I was saving your marriage.”

“Saving my… what?” Flint really wanted to wake up from this entire reality. “What the fuck happened to you in this universe to make you like this?”

“Okay, be an ungrateful dick,” Wrong Silver shrugged and opened the fridge door again. Flint was horrified to see him take a gulp of something with the word _Ichor_ on the label, straight from the bottle. He did not want to think about what it could possibly be.

“Jesus Christ,” Flint muttered, eyes casting about himself for something, anything to make sense. “If you’re… well, _you_ , then where the hell is _my_ John?”

“I put him in _my_ James’ bedroom. It’s not like he needs it right now.”

“Does _your_ James know that?”

“Why does it matter if… Oh.”

“Oh god…” Flint decided it was a good thing he knew where the bathroom was now, because he really needed to go upstairs and vomit.

***

“John?” Flint said softly as he stepped into the lightproof master bedroom. He felt horrible for how harsh he'd been with Silver before, and that feeling had only been amplified when his fledgling avoided him for the rest of the night and then apparently went straight to bed. It looked like he was sleeping, or at least pretending to sleep, despite the fact that there were still several hours left until dawn. “John, I want to apologize,” he said, easing the door shut behind himself and approaching the bed. 

“It’s okay,” Silver said, rolling over in the bed to peer sleepily at Flint. “Come here,” he said, and god did he look delectable like that, wearing just a t-shirt with his hair a wild mess around his face. He looked like he needed a good, hard fuck to remind him who loved him and where he belonged. 

Flint couldn't help but approach when Silver beckoned, of course. He got into bed, sliding under the covers with him. “I was too harsh before, I realize that now. I can't say I wouldn't have done the same, had the other Flint and I found ourselves alone a little bit longer. I understand the impulse and I'm not mad at you,” he said, feeling a weight lift from his chest as he spoke. He hadn't fully realized how much it bothered him to argue with Silver. 

“I know. I'm still really sorry for what I did, but...I'm glad you get it,” Silver said. He reached out, and Flint took him into his arms, kissing him deep and slow. 

“God, you feel so good,” Flint moaned. Silver smelled outrageously good, too, almost like he had when he was alive. He felt a bit warm and flushed to the touch, in addition - had he fed on a human that evening without Flint’s knowledge?

Silver whimpered and squirmed enthusiastically under Flint in a way that was very familiar to him, and he hastily began undressing him, wanting to get at him. He kissed down his neck, nipping gently, not even enough to draw blood. Then he shucked Silver’s pajama pants off him with no preamble and ran one hand down his side to his hip, gripping his thigh and caressing lower, past his bare knee and feeling-- skin? Warm skin. 

“The fuck?” Flint muttered, feeling his calf again to make sure he wasn't imagining things. “You're not my John!” Realization dawned on him rapidly. 

“Nope,” the Other Silver admitted, sounding sheepish. “I knew pretty quickly that you weren't my James but I was curious about you, so…”

“I could've killed you!” Flint exclaimed, properly horrified. “Do you even know what it's like when two of the undead have sex? Fuck me, I could've broken you in half!” He got out of bed, shying away from the human Silver. He was arousing, there was no denying that, but he just wasn't...right. “I need to find my John,” Flint said, fleeing the bedroom.

He nearly collided with Other Flint on the stairs. He looked just as disturbed and frantic as Flint felt himself, which was only somewhat gratifying. 

“Did yours--?”

“Yeah. I'm guessing--?”

“Yeah. Let's never speak of this again.”

“Agreed,” Flint said, and charged down the stairs past his doppelgänger to find his Silver. When he found him in the kitchen, looking only mildly chagrined and with a smudge of Ichor on his lower lip, Flint couldn't help but pull him into a fierce bear hug. He clung to him, feeling inexorably glad to have his Silver in his arms again. 

“Hi,” Silver whispered, and Flint could hear the smile in his voice. 

“You shit,” Flint whispered fondly back. 

***

With his husband safely relocated to his temporary bed in the guest room and securely wrapped in a blanket and his own arms, Flint took a deep breath, inhaling the warm, comforting scent of Silver’s skin.

“Jesus Christ, you feel so good,” he muttered underneath Silver’s earlobe. “I’m so sorry I ever thought I could sleep without you again. I was an idiot.” Silver hummed contentedly into Flint’s neck. “I promise next time we’re in a freak vampire dimension, I will keep my cool.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, old man,” Silver chuckled, lips pressing soft kisses to the side of Flint’s neck. “Is this a vampire hickey?”

Flint reached over and turned off the side lamp, much to Silver’s amusement.

“Shut up, hatchling. It’s not funny.” 

The room was heavily curtained, but considering they had gotten barely any sleep all night, Flint thought it best to leave the drapes drawn and keep the sunlight out. With their hosts retired to their own beds for the day, there seemed nothing left to do for them but wait out the conclusion of this farce and while away the time in bed.

“James?”

“Hm?”

Flint pressed closer, his arm slung across Silver’s ribcage as it expanded beneath the weight with even breaths. He never thought before that another person’s breathing would become so vital for his own ongoing existence.

“What do you think it means?” Silver asked.

“What, babe?”

“Us being here. With them. Them being here. I mean, the fact that… This is gonna sound so sappy, you’ll divorce me.” Silver butted his forehead into Flint’s and, with the tips of his fingers, Flint felt the wrinkling of Silver’s nasal ridge.

“Nah, you’re stuck with me,” he promised, placing a soft kiss on the tip of Silver’s nose.

“Do you think it means something that we are together in our reality and they are together in this one? I mean like… that maybe this is meant to be? That we’re always meant to be together, no matter what?”

“You mean like… soulmates?” Flint asked with bated breath.

“I told you it was sappy,” Silver muttered, burrowing closer, his arms tightening around Flint’s middle. Flint closed his eyes and pressed his lips to the top of Silver’s head, right where his damp forehead met the hairline. “James?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think that… there’s another parallel universe somewhere in which we’re _not_ together?”

Flint tightened his own grip on Silver’s body, slinging a leg over his thigh just in case as well. “Fuck, baby. If such a parallel universe exists, we must be fucking miserable in it.”

“Promise me you’ll never leave me, no matter what stupid shit I might do?” Silver blinked up at Flint and, even in the darkness of the room, his big blue eyes glimmered like stars. How could Flint ever do anything other than be ruled by them?

“I swear,” he said and sealed his promise with a kiss.

***

The next evening, Silver woke to the beautiful, welcome sight of Flint watching him with those intensely green eyes, clearly waiting on him to wake for the night. 

“Hi,” he mumbled, rubbing his hands over his eyes and then leaning in to give Flint a kiss-- well, not a kiss good morning, and not really a kiss goodnight, either, but something in between. 

“Hello,” Flint said, smiling softly at him.

There was a faint scratching at the door and a high, sweet little voice said, “John? Captain? There's humans in y’alls’ house.”

Silver snorted and got out of bed, hopping to the door on his one good foot and letting Sookie the cat into the bedroom. “We know, Sook. Thanks for telling us, though.” 

He shut the door behind her and followed her back to bed as she leaped up and immediately started purring, kneading the covers over Flint’s lap. 

“I took it on myself to hide some’a your valuables,” she drawled, rubbing her cheek against Flint’s hand. “Just in case, you know.”

“What did you hide, and where?” Silver asked, settling himself in the bed next to his maker and their ridiculous cat. He was used to Sookie hiding things she found valuable - hair ties, caps from bottles of Ichor, lone socks. Usually nothing that was actually important, although one time she hid a bottle of Flint’s very expensive designer nail polish. Fortunately he had a soft spot for the cat, and thought it was funny. 

“A book y'all was reading yester-night,” Sookie said, flopping inelegantly between Silver and Flint so Silver could rub her belly. “When you was burning that stinky stuff and had all those drippy lights on.”

Silver paused, the wheels in his head turning as he made sense of what Sookie was telling him. “The book I was reading just before the humans showed up? Um. Where exactly did you hide it, Sook?” he asked as casually as possible. He could feel Flint staring at him, apparently having reached the same conclusion he was slowly coming to. 

“Under the couch in the li-berry. Figured it's safe there, Captain wouldn't let no humans he don't know go pokin’ around in there anyway,” she said. 

“Thank you, Sook, you're a big help,” Silver said. He grabbed his robot leg from nearby and put it on, hurrying to the door in just his boxers with Flint right behind him in his pajamas. 

“Your cat hid the book we need to get these people back to their home,” Flint said almost accusingly as they hustled down the stairs to the library. 

“She was looking out for us. She thought it was valuable and hid it in your ‘li-berry.’” Silver paused outside the library, turning to smile up at Flint. “That's kinda cute, right?”

Flint tried to scowl, but Silver saw a little smile poking through anyway. “I suppose,” he said. Then suddenly Silver was being gathered up in his strong arms, the door to the library shutting behind him as Flint pressed him up against it. “I don't like the other you as much as I like you,” he whispered in his ear, then nipped him. 

Silver moaned quietly, pressing up against him. “You're getting me all hot and bothered, and I'm not wearing enough clothes to be able to hide it,” he whispered back. “Come on, let's send these humans home and then you can fuck me anywhere you want. Floor, couch, bed… maybe even the kitchen counter like that one time.”

Flint growled softly and pulled back from Silver, looking like it was tough for him to do so. He sauntered over to the couch and knelt on the floor, giving Silver an excellent view of his ass while he rummaged beneath the couch and eventually extracted the book of arcana. 

“Stupid cat,” Silver said fondly as Flint stood and dusted off the book. 

“Indeed. Now, let's go find our human guests and send them back to - ugh - San Fran-fucking-cisco, and then once they've gone I'll fuck you silly on the kitchen counter,” Flint said, and Silver grinned, thinking to himself that he'd never get tired of hearing such filthy promises in that cultured accent. 

***

Flint opened his eyes and pulled covers off his head. His face felt as if it had been sat on by an elephant and he groaned, reaching over towards the bedside table where he normally kept a glass of water. A murmur chased him from behind and then Silver’s arms snaked around his waist and Silver’s nose poked him in the spinal column.

“Stay here longer, it’s Sunday.”

“How do you know?” Flint asked, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. 

“Feels like a Sunday,” Silver’s lips pressed soft kisses into the freckled skin of Flint’s back. 

“I need some fucking Advil,” Flint grumbled, swinging his legs off the mattress. “Jesus, what did we drink last night? I had the weirdest fucking dream.”

Silver’s hands loosened, letting him go. “It wasn’t a dream. James? We were there.”

“What?” Flint hollered back from the bathroom, where he paused to empty his bladder, and continued to rummage in the medicine cabinet for the family sized pack of ibuprofen. “And what did you do to the Advil?”

“I think it might be in the kitchen,” Silver replied, also getting out of bed and resentfully slipping into his sweatshirt. The heater was off and the West Portal house had apparently turned into a refrigerator overnight.

He walked out into the kitchen to find Flint already there, staring at the counter with the look of a man about to commit bloody murder.

“John?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Why do I see your sister’s fucking Dream Tea™ and two used cups over here?”

"I… I don’t know?”

“Fucking chamomile can’t ever be trusted! No wonder I tripped balls all night and now feel like shit. Where do we keep the anti-histamines?"

“James! It wasn’t a dream! Why would we both have had the same crazy dream!” Silver insisted, rummaging for the small bottle of Allegra to appease his spouse.

“How do you even know that it was the same?” Flint asked suspiciously. “I didn’t tell you what I dreamed of.”

Silver sighed. “Seriously? You’re gonna pretend that none of it ever happened? Portland? Vampires? Me fucking myself?”

“That’s some strong ass chamomile,” Flint shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know for sure what happened now.”

“James!”

Flint grinned and popped three Advils and an Allegra into his mouth, chasing it with tap water.

Silver hung his head in surrender. “Fine then, if you’re going to be like that…”

Flint _was_ going to be like that. He pulled Silver in, fingers entwined in his unruly curls, slammed him up against the refrigerator door, and kissed him until his headache finally evaporated.

***

Shortly after the humans vanished back to whence they came, Silver found himself in the kitchen, being lifted by supernaturally strong arms and propped up on the counter. 

“I’m so glad they've gone and we're alone,” Flint growled, pulling Silver’s boxers down off him and kissing heatedly down his neck, nipping him here and there. 

“Me too,” Silver sighed happily, tipping his head back to give Flint more room. He reached up and gently tugged the tie from Flint’s long hair, sending the bright red waves cascading down around his shoulders.

Silver wrestled Flint’s pajama shirt off him and reached down into his pants, drawing his cock out and stroking him slowly, teasingly. He looked up at his face, feeling gratified when he saw that Flint’s eyes were closed and his impressive fangs were out.

“God, I want to fuck you,” Flint moaned. He grabbed lube from where he'd hidden it in an unused kitchen drawer and opened it, slicking his fingers. A moment later Silver felt two of those cool, thick fingers pressing into him, slowly easing him open.

“Oh, _yes_ , James,” Silver moaned, throwing his head back and pressing down on Flint’s fingers, writhing to get them further within him.

Flint withdrew his fingers and almost immediately replaced them with his cock, making Silver cry out with pleasure. “I told the other you that if he'd successfully seduced me, I might've accidentally killed him. Fucked him to death,” he ground out, rocking his hips and thrusting deep in Silver. 

“He tried to seduce you? That little shit,” Silver moaned, moving his hips with Flint’s, needing to feel him deep inside.

“I have it on good authority that you tried to seduce the other Flint,” his maker panted, gripping his hips hard enough to bruise, and god did that feel good. He thrust back up against him in return, fucking him with abandon. 

“Doesn't matter now. I have you, and you have me, and that's all that matters forever,” Silver said, lying back on the counter so Flint could take hold of him and fuck him like he meant it. 

“Yes. Forever,” Flint gasped, then began thrusting so fast and so hard, Silver would swear his very bones were being rattled apart. It was an exhilaratingly pleasurable feeling, and one he'd never experienced before Flint. 

Silver got a hand in between them and jerked himself off, coming after a few more moments with a wrung-out cry of pure ecstasy. He felt Flint pulsing inside him after and moaned his encouragement, squirming underneath him as Flint claimed him, filled him with his seed. 

Flint slumped forward in the wake of their combined pleasure, his long unruly hair sticking to them both. “It would seem I'm a bit of a possessive bastard in any universe. I don't really want anyone else to have you, even if it's me,” he said, so quietly Silver almost didn't hear.

“I love you, too,” Silver said, clinging to him and positively beaming.

**Author's Note:**

> Dream Tea is a real thing, El knows (and I have been informed). The title of this fic was inspired by a Sia song of a similar name. Silver's Latin incantation at the beginning means 'free dark' because I (Mac) wrote that part and am a giant nerd.


End file.
